I Wanna Hold Your Hand
by BeggarsCan'tBeChoosers
Summary: Request fic - "UKUS with guitar playing Arthur trying to woo jock!Alfred rather publicly."


**[A/N: Hullo. Beggars here, with a request… IKR, it's amazing, I actually did as promised! OTL I'm so late with this… I hope it's sorta what you wanted, at least, ****MataHari-Chan!**

**Original Request:** **UKUS with guitar playing Arthur trying to woo jock!Alfred rather publicly.**

… **Lame!titleislameOTL**

**That is all. Buhbye.]**

"Great game today, Jones!" A smirking albino with a thick German accent – also known as Gilbert Beilschmidt, the self-proclaimed most 'awesome student at the World Academy', punched a taller blonde's arm; his brother, Ludwig, also tall and blonde, standing slightly behind him, nodded.

"Ja. Well played, Alfred." He muttered gruffly, agreeing with his brother. He clapped the American on the shoulder, before glancing to the side of the field, a blush spreading across his face as he saw the brunette bouncing up and down, waving frantically and waiting for him. He nodded to the other two in parting and headed off.

"Mein gott, why doesn't he just admit that he has a major boner for that Italian kid already?" Gilbert smiled affectionately, shaking his head a little as he stared after his younger brother. "The kid's head over heels, he might as well just man up and take him behind the bleachers or something." He thought for a moment. "Or let the kid take him… Ich denke Luddy might be a secret sub."

"G-Gilbert!" Alfred laughed, blushing slightly. "I don't want to know about your brother's bedroom habits, thanks dude." Gilbert smirked.

"Alright then Jones… What about you?" Alfred's blush deepened and he knelt to fiddle with his shoelaces, pretending not to understand the question.

"What about me?" He asked airily, standing again, once his blush had died down a little.

"Well, who've you got the hots for?" Gilbert chuckled, his trademark laugh, as he elbowed his friend playfully. "That Ukrainian chick with the huge rack? Her creepy sister? Or maybe you bat for the anderes mannschaft…?"

"You know I don't understand you when you talk German, Gilbert." Alfred elbowed him back, though he had a vague idea as to what had been said. "And for your information, I don't have the hots for anyone, at the moment." He shrugged. "I'll find someone."

"Ja?" Gilbert's smirk widened into a full on knowing grin. "No-one at all?" Alfred blushed again, frowning down at the albino.

"It's none of your business if I do." He mumbled sulkily. Gilbert laughed again.

"Keseseseses, of course not, liebling." He teased. "But there is someone who _might_ be a little nosier than mich…"

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, eyeing the German suspiciously. "Who…?" Gilbert just shook his head, still grinning.

"I don't know anything about anything~" He sung, innocently. "I'm just a moron, remember~?" He burst into his characteristic laugh again. "Later, Jones!" He called, turning and darting away before Alfred, still frowning, could stop him.

"No! Dammit Gilbert, get back here! Who-?"

"I think he might've been talking about me, luv." Alfred spun around so fast he almost lost his balance; when he caught it again he stared at the smirking Englishman, leaning back on his elbows against the low wall that separated the playing field from the spectators' seating. Though the match was over, there was still two-dozen or so students milling around, including, Alfred noticed with irritation, that deserter Gilbert, sitting in the top row with his two best friends, Antonio and Francis, all three watching with matching expressions of interested amusement.

"Uh… Hi Arthur…" Alfred glanced back at the smaller blonde, raising an eyebrow slightly at the out-of-character ripped jeans and dark shirt, a crude slogan emblazoned across it. "You look… Different…" He eyed the smaller teen curiously. "What's with the sexy rock star look you've got going on there?" He asked, only realising what he'd inadvertently admitted a moment later, when Arthur pushed himself off the fence and almost stalked towards the American; Alfred glanced around, looking for an escape route, but to no avail as the older boy soon had him pressed up against the wall. Alfred didn't even remember turning; he stared distractedly at Arthur's sultry green eyes as the smaller boy leant in, then wrinkled his nose slightly at the hint of alcohol. "You've been drinking." He observed, calming slightly. The usually responsible English student was known to do strange things whilst under the influence; something that happened all too often, despite the fact he was underage, due to his three older brothers, all borderline alcoholics, and their fondness for seeing their little brother make a fool of himself whilst drunk.

"Francis had some wine. It was delightful~" Arthur near-purred, playing coyly with the flash of throat exposed above Alfred's collar.

"W-what, no frog insults? You really are drunk!" Alfred laughed nervously, glancing to the side, looking for assistance. He was physically larger and stronger than Arthur, though younger, but he didn't want to have to resort to force unless necessary.

"Arthur, _mon ami_, get to the point~!" The Frenchman in question called from high in the bleachers, his two companions cheering and whistling to emphasise the point.

"I'm getting there, wanker!" Arthur snapped, flushing and scowling as he stepped back. He huffed slightly, leaning over the wall and reaching for something behind it; Alfred tried to deny the way his eyes were instantly drawn to that perfect curve of ass, teasingly hidden by tight denim, and turned away, his cheeks pink. Arthur made a soft noise of triumph, wriggling back to an upright position, his old acoustic guitar clutched reverently in his hands. Alfred bit his lip, torn between staring as the older boy caressed the fretboard lovingly, and running before the drunken Arthur focused on him again. He began to back away slowly as Arthur slid the strap over his head, settling it on his shoulders and wrapping his fingers around the neck, his other hand dipping into his pocket for the pick. Two paces, three… Just a few more, and he would be able to turn and run for it; the changing rooms were locked after each game, and whilst Arthur, as captain of the soccer team, had a key, it was unlikely that he had it on him; there wasn't another soccer game until next week. Four shuffling paces back, and Alfred found his eyes still glued to Arthur's fingers as they began to strum almost playfully at the strings. He faltered, his foot half-raised for the next pace backwards, and dragged his eyes up to Arthur's face; the older boy's eyes were closed, a soft half-smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side slightly, listening to the soft chords. And then, he began to sing.

"Oh yeah, I´ll tell you something, I think you'll understand… When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand… I wanna hold your hand…" Alfred's eyes went wide, his breath quickening and a blush returning to his cheeks as he stared at the smaller boy.  
>"Arthur…?"<p>

"Oh, please, say to me… You'll let me be your man… And please, say to me… You'll let me hold your hand; now let me hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand." Arthur ignored the American's confusion, continuing to sing softly, the song slower, more emotive, than the original; he opened his green eyes slowly and fixed them on Alfred's blue ones, his expression sincere and almost serious as he carried on. "And when I touch you I feel happy, inside, it's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide… I can't hide… I can't hide…"

"A-Arthur!" Alfred blushed deeper as he realised that a crowd was forming; not only had the Bad Touch Trio headed down from their spot high in the bleachers, but the cheerleaders, now changed back into their regular clothes, had also appeared; at their head the giggling Hungarian senior, her camera phone held up to film the spectacle. Beyond that, Alfred thought he even saw his brother, standing just behind Ludwig and his bouncing Italian crush. He stared hopelessly at his twin, but Matthew just gave him a vague, encouraging smile.  
>"Yeah you, got that something; I think you'll understand. When I say that something… I wanna hold your hand… I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand." Arthur took a step forward, drawing Alfred's attention back to him. He smirked, expression sultry again as the American boy stared, his attention once again caught by the delicate hands dancing up and down the frets, playing across the strings…<br>"And when I touch you I feel happy, inside… It's such a feeling, that my love, I can't hide… I can't hide… I can't hide!" Alfred moved his eyes up to meet Arthur's again. Arthur held his gaze steadily as he sang the last stanza, voice low, almost a whisper. "Yeah you, got that something, I think you'll understand… When I say that something…" He took a breath, the strumming slowing, then stopping; he slid his pick back into his pocket and let the guitar hang, holding his arms to Alfred. "I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand… I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your ha-a-a-a-a-a-and…" Slowly, Alfred lifted his hands, hesitating before resting them lightly in Arthur's. The English boy smiled, almost relieved, and stepped in closer; clasping the larger boy's hands as he turned his face up, leaning in. Alfred glanced around at their audience, embarrassed, until Elizabeta, the Head Cheerleader, yelled: "Kiss him already, Al!", a chant that was quickly taken up by the rest of the onlookers. Never one to disappoint, Alfred slid his arms around Arthur's waist, mindful of the guitar, and dipped him, muffling the smaller boy's shocked yelp with his mouth as he kissed him firmly. Arthur clung to him, fisting his hands in the American's shirt, fearful of being dropped, even as he kissed back fervently.

"I hope you realise how completely and utterly embarrassing that was. For both of us." Alfred murmured against a dazed Arthur's lips a moment later.

"That bloody frog dared me…" He muttered back, by way of an explanation, then risked loosening his grip on Alfred's shirt to throw his arms around his neck instead, kissing him soundly again.

Meanwhile, a smirking albino glanced over at his two friends, both watching the new couple with interest.

"So, if Al's happily out of the closet now… Think he'll let me hit on his bruder?"


End file.
